


The 'Vinsomer' Night Dream

by MatieskiTheMistake



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blue-Purple Hawke (Dragon Age), F/F, F/M, Help, How Do I Tag, M/M, Modern Boy in Thedas, Modern Character in Thedas, No Lesbians Die, Other, Quote: All This Shit is Weird (Dragon Age), Solas (Dragon Age) Has a Nice Ass, Solas is Fen'Harel (Dragon Age), Sorry Not Sorry, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:26:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25398379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatieskiTheMistake/pseuds/MatieskiTheMistake
Summary: "What are you all staring at? Have I something on my face, Krem?""You just got slashed at by a wyvern. I don't think you should have a face right now, Arden."-"I have someone you all may want to meet," I say, turning my back to the cave, a heavy Russian accent dusting my speech. I throw my arms wide, much like the Tony Stark had done with Jericho, and speak. "Everyone, meet Nessie."The cave roars.-Just past 19, brand new Russian-Scottish dorm student Arden Warde just wanted to play with his dogs, Marcus and Connor. Absoloutely tiny and a complete tacticial nerd (well, nerd of any sort, really), he suddenly finds himself at the end of Dragon Age Two, and just bouncing along at the beginning of Inquisition. With shitty vision, and an even worse personality and memory, how in the fuck will he cope with a sudden, world threatening, archdemon reborn personally attacking his mental stability?... (or what's left of it)Swearing, Mature(and/or)Depressive Themes, Violence, and, most importantly, a dense idiot who just wants to drink and smoke some elfroot-weed.
Relationships: Anders/Carver Hawke, Blackwall | Thom Rainier/Josephine Montilyet, Cassandra Pentaghast/Varric Tethras, Cole (Dragon Age) & Original Male Character(s), Dagna/Lace Harding/Sera, Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Fen'Harel | Solas/Original Male Character(s), Fenris/Male Hawke, Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Isabela/Merrill (Dragon Age), Leliana/Female Mahariel (Dragon Age), Original Female Character(s)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 45





	1. Coherency at it's Finest.

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhh first work, dont mind me here. My name's Matieski, which is what you all can call me. Yes. As a name. Yeah, I'll just- move so you all can read this.

Waking up in a bright, sandy/gravel-ly place with grains in places you didn't know _existed_ didn't seem like a bright game plan, but, alas, here we are. It also seemed that waking up to a faint, shuddering roar should've clued me in that, 'hey, that sure does sound like a dragon,' was the correct answer, rather than-

_Man, I sound like I'm really fucking hungry._

Entirely stupid, I know. But, my first game-plan was to find someone, find food, or get the fuck out of dodge, because it was raining faster than I could piss. Speaking of which, I needed to.

Blinking rapidly as I lay on my side, slowly I roll onto my stomach, feeling like I got hit by a truck whilst doing so. Everything was sore, and my bones creaked with every movement. That could also be from the fact that I have early onset arthritis, extremely hereditary in my family, a sad side effect of my fathers side (the dominant genes) living near Chernobyl during the time it went off. I manage to get onto my knees, and sit back on my feet, sitting up.

The effect is instantaneous, the blood rushing from my head, leaving my surroundings spinning and my vision white and blurry. After a few seconds, I snap out of it and stand, no idea which way is which or even what time of day it is, I haven't even a clue on what actual _day_ it is, and randomly start walking.

The rumbling in the distance continues, and I pass it off as a thunderstorm rolling into the beaches around me. Actually taking a moment to see whats around me, other than a few pieces of driftwood and tree fronds, it appeared I was on an island, with heavy fog and smelly sea all around. 

A quiet roar, like one from a helicopter and an aeroplane combined, slowly starts to assault my eardrums while I turn around dumbly. On about the sixth spin, I see a cave, with a rather obvious way to get to it, sitting just above a cliff, safe from the offending sea. I stumble that a way, almost tripping before taking my shoes off and leaving them for dead. Never liked them anyway.

What day is it again? I don't fucking know, but the cave is radiating heat, so thats the way to go.

But, I stop before the entrance to the cave and relieve myself. Bodily functions!

When I step into the cave, the air makes my hair stand on end, like static electricity but all around me. My mop of slightly damp and frizzy hair on the top of my head stands up too, like its chasing after a balloon nobody told me about.

My feet chase after the warmth thats dragging deeper into the cave, until I reach the source. Four eggs, three of which was cracked like it had been stabbed or poked at, were as warm as the heated blanket I had back at my flat. All I cared about at the moment was curling up around the warm objects and forgetting for a while.

oH SHIT-

I LEFT MY OVEN ON!

  


  


Not the brightest moment in my career, I realize, is waking up to a giant snout about two feet away from my face.

An even worse moment in my career, was reaching out and slapping it gently, saying 'good doggie.'

The all time most terrible? It would have to be the dragon, whose snout I had just slapped that was two feet from my very scared face, moving up to stare at me with its striped, purple eye.

Scrambling away from it, I fall over eggshells and through goop, which wasn't unsimilar to egg white. Hiding behind a large piece of eggshell, I hold my hands up and attempt to shake them off. A blast of air helps in that endeavour, and I wipe the rest off on my pants, before another makes me look up. Rather slowly, my eyes drift from the wall with the huge shadow, to the dragons face thats hovering above me.

I try to crawl away from it again, when it picks me up by my leg and pulls me away.

"nO- I DoN'T WANNA DIE-E-E-! PLEASE," I cry out, scraping at the ground until I'm solidly upside down. _This is how I die,_ I think, false tears framing my large forehead. _I'm about to be deepthroated by a dragon- wait fuck its a dragon- dragons arent real??? What in the ever-loving fuck?!_

_Okay, think. Dragons. What do we know class. Come on, Kahoot pop quiz in thirty seconds. Oh! Skyrim! Dragons- language- they talk, okay? Right? I knew 600 hours was a good decision- WikiFandom Don't Fail Me Now!_

"I am fus? Uh.. Stop for tinvaak with a joor, mighty dovah! No? Fuck! Just put me down, please, motherfucker!"

The dragon stops suddenly, and tosses me out of the cave, ass-first towards three very much moving black and white rocks. Once I had skidded right into them, they included me in the squirming. I was getting kicked by sharp feet and slapped by hard, spiky tails. WhAt could pOssibly go wrong.

That is precisely what could go wrong, another set of sharp feet and a spiky tail. Except this one was the largest of all of them, and it crushed me when it came tripping and trotting.

Like the momma T-Rex from Ice Age, the dragon comes stomping out of the cave. On four legs.

Well, dragons in Skyrim do not have four legs, so that takes that dream out of the way.

But where am I?

And more importantly,

_Where can I go piss?_

  


  


Sneaking away from a dragon that can smell you is a very bad idea, because they will tear off part of your jeans, and make them jorts.

Pissing in front of a group of dragons, with your back turned to them, is also a very bad idea. Because the babies will attack you, and the momma will start vigorously licking you, from your ass to the back of your head.

And then, the momma will leave, and I get to be jostled around for hours in a group of baby dragons. That don't have wings.

But, dragon piggy-back rides are very fun.

Hearing a roar from across the water, on the other beach, is not fun. Because if my Host is brutally injured, I am _not_ raising four asshole dragon babies. Nuh-uh. I am really that person, because I would feel bad, but I am _not_ Sid from ice age. That shit will _not_ work out.

Less than half an hour of tensely sitting on the beach before the Dragon brings back a giant arm.

And I mean a _giant_ arm. Not just a huge arm, but this arm looks like one of the fucking giants from Skyrim. Crappy fingernails and all.

The other little dragonlings dug in. I did not.

Momma dragon growled at me, and pushed me to the arm.

It _reeked._

I refused.

"Nope! Nuh-uh! I am not eating that! Fuck you, and fuck baby dragons!"

I flip off the momma dragon, and stomp to the forest to find a stick of good size.

Now, how did Primitive Technology do it? Pocketknife, forty-five degree downward angle, and rotate periodically until you have a point.

I think. I hope.

Pulling my trusty pocketknife from the front pocket of my jeans, I look at the first tree I reach.

...

No idea if it's poisonous or not, so lets do this!

My knife barely reaches the lowest branch, and I stab it with all the force I have in my 4' 11" body. When I jump up, I grab the branch.

Shakey-shakey, I wiggle until I'm wrapped around it. I get on top of it, and stand, grabbing the branch above it. But, I do snatch the knife from the tree, so when it breaks off I don't stab myself.

And now I jump, right?

One, two, three. The branch cracks on the third jump, but doesnt break. Three more. The branch just creaks and groans.

So I do one big one, and pull my feet off it all of the way, and prepare for one more jump.

Except the branch above me cracks, and breaks off. I go down with it, and land on my back.

"Oof!"

I groan. That hurt. Alot. Fuuuck me. Not my brightest moment.

And then I'm picked up by the stick I still have a death grip on. My legs swing three feet above the ground. Well, life was good while it lasted?


	2. what are THOOOOSE (nah, jk, I can't see them)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fishy fail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O???my???gods???  
> I never expected to have so many people come and check this out this is beyond the one because of the tags!! Thank you all so much!!! Aaa!  
> Also sorry for it being so late my little pirhanas, but my internet kinda fucking SUCKS

Alright, so, technically, I _should_ be fearing for my life, right? But its actually kind of fun-

Really, I thought that clinging to a flimsy stick, right next to a stanky dragon mouth would have had me fainting, but it was pretty cool. Once I swung myself up and onto the top of the branch, I could (relatively) safely cling to the snout of the dragon, and only be mildly concerned when it snorted hard enough to jostle me.

Other than that, it was attempt not to slip off in the drizzle that had started up again. While there, I also got the chance to analyze the sharp scales on the tip of the dragon's nose. And then I had a thought. Probably a stupid one, like all the rest of my thoughts, but anyway-

If I could get one of those, or a tooth, then my spear would have to be relatively strong, right?

...right?

So then, when the dragon attempted to set me down on _top_ of the bloody arm, I clung for dear life on one of the bigger scales. And then, when the dragon shook its head and dislodged me, it came tumbling into the muddy, blood soaked dirt with me.

Thankfully, however, none got in my mouth. UnThankfully, I felt my phone snap.

Honestly, I didn't even know I had it with me until I landed on it. I do that alot. Like... A lot. I've had to replace like three phones that way.

One time I left it on the roof of my car as I drove away. And then ran over it when I came back home. Another time was when I was late for the tram, it fell out of the waterbottle pouch on the side of my knapsack, and it fell on to the tracks. Oh! And then that one time where I needed to get my motorbike, it fell out and then got crunched up in the spokes.

I'm just very stupid. And clumsy. But mostly stupid.

Anyway, aside from that, I now have a dragon scale. And an angry dragon? Its huffing, and bleeding from the nose, but thats okay.

I kind of want to drink the dragon blood, for some reason??? But then again I kind of drink my own blood if I accidentally get scratched somewhere I can reach it. Thats normal, right??? Alot of people do that?

Although, I'm not too sure that there _are_ people here... Anywhere. I've been on a big, pebbly, sandy beach with two giant statues watching it for the better part of my day, and not one sign of a person. Strange, yeah?

The statues look oddly familiar, but I can't place it. Their beards are as long as they are, and I'm pretty sure one has tits.

Not that I'm judging, after all, my brother used to have them. And I can certainly appreciate a pair if they come by.

aNYWAY.

Off topic. I'm thinking about things. Uh....

Its wet. And stormy. And makes me feel sticky because I'm covered in giant and dragon blood.

In the distance I can see an arguable shoreline, with a shit ton of boats and I _think_ bears, so. Eesh.

Uh.... My stick isn't broken. Thats good. I'm pretty sure. My phone is cutting into my asscheek. Uh, that is _definitely_ not good.

What else...

Oh, yeah! I'm hungry as shit. Time to sharpen the stick.

Grunting, I extend my left leg to shove my hand down my front pocket, grabbing the very... Weighty knife. Its not a Swiss army knife, or a multiknife, but its just one of those cheap, heavy pocket ones you can get at Wal-Mart. Or.. Where did I get it, again?... Oh, right, the crack dealer behind Ikea.

Anyway, that's beside the point, because while I try not to stab myself by accidentally opening the damn thing, the baby dragons are tearing the arm down to the bone.

Maybe I could use some of the meat to attract fish-

NO. JUST, **NO.**

Anyway, knife is safely out, and I pop it open, flinching back when it jerks my hand, because that shit is strong. Angling it, before switching my hands and angling it again, because I'm fucking left handed, not right, stupid fucking school systems, and grab the thin end of the branch, making sure it doesn't snap when I bend it a little. Beyond that, I... Really don't know how to do this.

Filleting some fish? Yeah, I can do that! Gutting a deer? You betcha! Handling a crossbow? Mhmm! Using a bow? Nope. Using a kitchen knife? Fuck no. Fishing? N. O. Making a fire? Bold of you to assume. (Setting things on fire on _accident_ is a totally different occurence and should be completely disregarded in response to that question-)

So, I wrap my arm around the stick, holding it steady as I take off layer after layer of bark and wood, and almost cut my thumb off. In any case, just after _that_ fiasco, I have a single flat side of a branch.

It.. Its kind of like sharpening those rectangleish pencils. Annoying, hard, and you have to remember to fucking _turn it._

Anyway, after around an agonizing hour of keep away from four dragonlings, and a few tries of mama dragon wants me back in the nest, I have a mostly sharpened stick.

It looks jagged, and looks like ass, but thats okay. Because with enough blunt force, this bad boy could get through a fish's scales!

...right?

Hopefully.

Any way, since my jeans are now jorts, I roll up the sleeves of my flannel and attempt to make it to the edge of the water.

Keyword; _attempt._

The mama-fucking-dragon doesnt want me out that far. Apparently, anyways. So what do I do?

I growl _. At a_ _ **dragon.**_

Hey, I never said I was smart, so shut the _fuck_ up, Timmy.

I mean, after raising seventeen batches of kittens, and keeping a few full grown ones that like to fight, if you dont learn to hiss or growl menacingly enough to keep then in their areas, then what kind of packmaster am I? ...that's a normal thing, right? Yea.. It is. Stop judging me. sHUT UP, TIMMY.

Right, so, growled at the dragon, dragon growled back. I hissed, open mouth, it stepped back. I won that round, so I shook out my shoulders and marched to the shoreline.

Mama dragon followed, but didn't intervene, even as I found my _fucking Jesus Sandals and chucked_ _the bastards into the ocean._ Or when I walked in up to my knees.

But, for the life of me, I could not find a single fucking fish.

Okay, so, the way the shore is set up, its like a pond but with a chokepoint where the water comes in, so by the time it actually hits where I am, I'm not knocked on my ass every time a wave pushes at me.

But the downside is that means that its very likely that there isn't any fish until like, deep sea. So my only other option is to check out the island, right?

WRONG. 

See, my smart ass got bit by little tiny pincers. So guess what I'm having for dinner, Motherfucker? YOU.

_____________________

Two hours later, and I have a grand total of six raw crawfish in my stomach (because it was too wet for a fire). And now, while I'm significantly less hungry, I'm also very tired. 

And being very tired means sleep. And sleep means sleeping in front of not one, or two, but five dragons. And while the momma seems to be alright with me, the others are very rowdy, and very unlikely to be going to bed any time soon.

So, my solution. I've taken several large branches from the ground, as well as having convienently found a wierd locked chest with fabrics that I probably shouldnt trust but will anyway, and made a makeshift bed in a relatively dry alcove thats both large enough for me to roll around in, and takes 5 minutes of climbing to get to.

Basically perfect for me. In any case, after I ensure that my broken phone, sandals, and every cushiony thing that I could find is up there, I arrange myself in a fashion befitting a literal bastard who has suddenly found himself in a place that is most definitely not his college dorm, and cry.

I would spend much of my first few years here crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> since some of you lovely pirhanas had some confusion about the timeline:  
> Arden arrives in Thedas the DAY the archdemon is killed.  
> Two years after that (9:33), he's fully settled and acknowledging that he probably cant go home.  
> After six years in Thedas, he sees a large column of smoke from the north (9:37 cough cough Kirkwall)  
> Seven and a half years and he recieves a few special visitors that finally clue him into him being in Thedas.  
> He leaves the island at exactly eight years (9:39) in order to travel to Haven for the conclave in the hopes that such a time-altering event like the one that got him there can send him back.  
> Everything past that is too much major spoilers muahahaha!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry its so short, I'm just dipping my toes in the water and waiting for piranhas. You are the piranhas. If you read this.  
> Anyways.  
> Also, how do I tag my own tags?? All the tags I want to put on it arent letting me, but maybe thats bc I'm on my phone? I just want to lament over Solas' ass in the tags, tbh.


End file.
